


Tell Me Upon Your Return

by littleotter73



Series: The Salutation Series [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3620085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleotter73/pseuds/littleotter73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fourth Story in the Salutation series. Takes place two months after When You Are Ready to Say Hello. Buffy and Giles meet up after he moves to London. Their friendship appears to be back on track despite both still having deep feelings for each other. Unfortunately, Giles makes the mistake of bringing up the past much to Buffy's ire. Will they be able to move forward?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Upon Your Return

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to il_mio_capitano and rebelxxwaltz for their beta work!

Having sat in the restaurant for quite some time waiting, Giles checked his watch. She was now forty-five minutes late in meeting him for lunch. He’d allowed Buffy some leeway for being the CEO of the new Council and a little extra leeway for just being herself, because while the Slayer had always been on time to meet some threat, Buffy was almost always late for appointments in her personal life. However, forty-five minutes late was late, even by her standards. Finishing his Americano, he pulled out his phone and tried calling her mobile.

When he reached her answering service, he left a message. “Buffy, it’s Giles. I’m at the brasserie where we agreed to meet for lunch today. It is now half one and I am afraid I have to get back to work. I am sorry to have missed you. Please ring me to reschedule.”

He left money on the table for his coffee, rounding for a tip, and headed back to the museum. To say that he was disappointed was an understatement. He’d been in London two months and he and Buffy still had not managed to connect.

The first month, he’d spent becoming situated in his new position at the Victoria and Albert Museum and unpacking at his new home near Hampstead Heath, let to him by his cousin who was living in South Africa. And over the last few weeks, he and Buffy had tried to sync their schedules, but had been unsuccessful in doing so.

Buffy had made it clear that they were to meet for lunch during the work week. He assumed it was to limit contact after what had happened between them after their dinner back in August when he’d overstepped his bounds. The following day he’d sent her a bouquet of daisies with a card apologizing for his behavior. She’d phoned as soon she’d received them to thank him, and suggested that they meet up for coffee or lunch after he’d settled in London.

And here he was, standing in line to grab a sandwich and an apple at the overpriced museum café before heading back to his desk. As far as museum food went, it was rather good. It just didn’t compare to the Brasserie, and he was rather disappointed to have missed Buffy.

—————

Buffy checked her watch for the fourth time. She was so beyond late. Giles was bound to be upset with her. Her schedule hadn’t allowed her to meet with him before and now she was stuck in an upper management meeting while the team from Sydney gave their presentation for their budget needs for the upcoming year. If she could feign an apocalypse, she would. Unfortunately, they were all Council employees in the meeting and that scheme wouldn’t work. Perhaps a migraine?

She looked over her “notes”. It was actually a list of all the things she needed to get done before her flight to LA the following morning. The most significant item on her list was to pack, having left it to the last minute. She would be gone for ten days and she needed to take a mixture of business attire and casual clothing with appropriate shoes.

When the presentation came to an end, Buffy looked up from her notebook and, in an effort to hide her inattentiveness, nodded sagely and thanked them for a well thought out budget. From what she’d heard, none of it was unexpected nor unreasonable. Standing, she shook hands with each of them and headed to her office.

“Miss Summers?” It was her assistant calling for her and she headed over to his desk. No matter how many times she asked, he refused to call her Buffy.

“Yes, Allan?”

“You missed your meeting with Dr Giles this afternoon. I took the liberty to phone his secretary to let him know you had been detained and would contact him at your earliest convenience.”

Allan had graduated from university about a year ago and was the nephew of one of the Watchers who had survived the bombing and assassination attempts of the First. He and Buffy had hit it off during his interview and he had proven himself indispensable right from the start despite his need for formality.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Please tell me that I have nothing left on my agenda for today.”

He looked at her conspiratorially. “If you leave now, I’ll clear the last meeting. It’s with Mr Harris.”

Buffy smiled. “I’m already out the door. Xander knows the drill. And, Allan, whatever you do, don’t let him into my office. I so don’t need to find rubber snakes in my desk drawers or a six foot cardboard cut out of Gary Oldman as Dracula hiding in my bathroom this time, or whatever he thinks is funny.”

Allan flashed a guilty grin. “I won’t.”

“If I find out you were in on that little stunt last time… well, paybacks are hell, mister!”

He laughed in a nervous sort of way and Buffy entered her office feeling rather smug, knowing he’d had a hand in the prank. Gathering her things, she quickly headed to the lift.

“Have a pleasant trip,” Allan called to her.

“Thanks!”

As the elevator door opened, Xander stepped out and Buffy stepped in.

“Hey, Buff, don’t we-“

“Yeah, we do, but I gotta run, Xand, sorry.” She ran over to him and kissed his cheek. As the doors were closing, she scooted back into the lift and said, “You’ve got the con! See you ten days.”

“Ok, say hi to the Dawnster for me!”

“Oh and stay the hell out of my office!” she yelled. As the lift started to descend, she could have sworn she’d heard Xander laugh.

—————

Giles returned to his department wing from a meeting with Sir John. His two month anniversary with the V&A was coming up in a few days and the director wanted to ensure his needs were being met. Admittedly, he wasn’t used to having a boss who was so interested in his well being. The Council rarely made it their business to step in when he needed them and only butted in when they felt they were losing control, thus creating a need for self-sufficiency and self-preservation, and since he’d been his own boss for so long, he was rather independent and used to creating opportunities from adversity. So when he left the meeting, he was entirely unsure what to think of the matter.

As he walked by one of his graduate trainees, he stopped and picked up the wooden writing slope she was cataloguing.

“Is there something wrong, Dr Giles?” she asked.

“Hmm. Oh, nothing.” His grandmother had one very similar. “It will need to be varnished again.”

“Oh yes, and a bit of restoration too, check out the left side.”

Giles turned the slope and looked more closely. The mother of pearl inlay had suffered some damage and would need to be matched. “Indeed it does. Good work,” he complimented as he placed the box back down on her desk carefully.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Oh, Miss Chang, you might want to check the little catch to the right hand side. I am betting it will reveal a hidden drawer.”

She ran her finger along the side and found the catch, springing the mechanism to release the drawer. “No way! How cool is that?”

He smiled and made his way back to his office. The graduates were impressed so easily. When he walked through the door, he did a double take. Buffy was sitting in his chair.

“Hi Giles,” she greeted with a smile. “I half expected to find you in tweed.”

His eyes lit up at her teasing. “No, just a regular suit I am afraid. Sorry to have disappointed you.”

“Color me _not_ disappointed. You look… very dapper.”

“Thank you. I thought I would treat myself when I moved, so I found a tailor off Savile Row.”

“That’s some money _very_ well spent.” She signaled for him to turn around and he glared at her, but she ignored him and signaled again and he unbuttoned the jacket and held it open as he turned around. He wore a three-piece charcoal grey, lightweight wool suit with a grey and white striped shirt offset by a deep emerald green silk tie and a matching pocket square.

“Very nice,” she complimented as she got up from behind the desk to take a better look. Giles always cut a dashing figure in a suit, but to see one that was cut in the British style and tailored to him was just breathtaking. “I definitely like the tan oxfords and the silver pocket watch is a very nice touch.” She took the fob watch out of pocket of his waistcoat and looked it over with genuine appreciation.

“Thank you. It was my grandfather’s,” he said when she handed it back to him and he tucked it back into his pocket.

“Now it’s your turn,” he said with a hint of playfulness.

“For what?”

He gestured for her to turn around and she rolled her eyes but twirled for him anyway. She had carefully chosen the soft heather grey sweater and simple navy blue pencil skirt to impress him with a simple, yet elegant look. As his eyes trailed down her legs, he noticed that she was wearing sheer stockings and that the varnish on her toes that peaked out from her stylish heels matched her fingernails. She wore her hair long and it looked soft to the touch. The entire ensemble was very feminine and professional and suited her very well. He particularly liked the way the skirt hugged her hips and rear as she turned.

“The very essence of feminine power and grace,” he complimented.

“And you are quite the charmer, Dr Giles.” She could’ve kicked herself for flirting with him. That wasn’t why she was visiting him. Looking for something safe, she changed the subject. “Did you get my message from Allan?”

Giles noted the change in tone and moved around her to set his files down on his desk. “That you were detained in a meeting?”

“That would be the one.” She put her hand on his forearm. “I am so sorry about missing our lunch.”

“So long as you meant to come,” he replied gently before looking down at her hand.

She suddenly felt self-conscious and placed her hands on his desk before casually leaning back against it. “I really did.”

“So what brings you to my office? Not that I am not thrilled to see you, but we could’ve rescheduled over the phone.”

“I’m headed out of town tomorrow and I didn’t want to keep putting off seeing you.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just going back to California for a bit. I have a meeting with the insurance people regarding the house and everything we lost in Sunnydale. While I’m there, I am going to spend a day or two bonding with Dad… or make him take me shopping because alone time with him is really awkward at best. And then we’ll fly up to San Francisco together so we can hang out with Dawn for parents’ weekend.”

“Sounds like quite the itinerary.”

“Most of it will be mind numbing, I’m sure, but I’m looking forward to spending some quality time with my sister, even if I do have to share her with Dad.”

“And how is Dawn?” Giles asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

She noted his defensive position. “Still not talking to you, huh?”

“She wouldn’t even let me grovel. I did offer to fly her over for spring break and promised to take her anywhere in Europe she wanted to go.”

“She didn’t bite?”

“Well, the term ‘bite’ was in her answer.” He looked at her sheepishly and Buffy tried not to laugh. “I’m afraid I have really made a mess of things with her, but I am not sure exactly what it is that I have done to deserve such treatment. I can’t imagine that my actions the day of the memorial service would drive such a wedge between us. I understand she’s hurt, but she’s forgiven me for worse.”

“I’ll see what I can do to smooth things over while I am there. I know she loves you, Giles,” Buffy tried to reassure him.

“Thank you.”

“So, umm, I missed lunch and I’m starving. Any chance you might want to join me for an early dinner before I have to go home and pack like a mad fiend?”

Giles pulled out his fob watch and checked the time. It was still a little early to clock off, but could make up the time by coming in a little earlier in the morning. “I would love to. Would you be able to spare an hour or so? I have a personal delivery I need to make to a client today.”

“Yeah, I can probably swing that. Where to?”

“The British Museum.”

“I have a driver and the company car.”

“Fantastic.”

—————

Giles and Buffy waited for his client in the offices of the British Museum. Buffy noted that the space looked more modern than at the V&A. The workspace was open, exposing more light, and the furniture less heavy. She tried to imagine Giles working in one of the offices years ago before he embarked on his journey across the Atlantic to become her Watcher.

“Do you miss it here?” she asked him suddenly.

“Sometimes,” he answered. “But consulting with the Anglo-Saxon team since my return has been rewarding.”

“Ah, Rupert, sorry to keep you waiting.”

Giles stood and reached for the other man’s hand. “It’s quite alright. You’re a busy man, Adrian. May I present my dear friend Buffy Summers. Buffy, this is my former colleague Adrian Alward.”

“Nice to meet you,” Buffy said as she stood and shook his hand.

“Enchanted,” Adrian said huskily with a rakish smile. He was taller than Giles by about two or three inches, extremely fit, and handsome with dirty blond hair, light blue eyes, and a cleft chin.

Giles saw Buffy’s eyes light up as the younger man flirted with her and felt a twinge of annoyance rise through him.

“Tell me,” Adrian started as he led them down the hall. “How do you know Rupert?”

Buffy looked thoughtfully at Giles before answering, “We met years ago when he came to the States. He’s been a great mentor and friend.”

Adrian eyed Giles before asking her, “And what do you do?”

She smiled back at the curator. “I run the research firm that hired him away from here.”

“So we have you to blame for stealing one of our most talented and knowledgeable resources away!” he teased, showing the pair into his office.

‘If you only knew,’ Giles thought as he rifled through his briefcase for the packet he was to deliver.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, we tried to hire him back recently, but he turned us down,” Buffy answered evasively.

“We did as well, but it seems that our Rupert is more ambitious than we thought and found a loftier position as the Director of Collections at the V&A!”

Giles glared at his former colleague over his glasses.

“I jest, Rupert. You would’ve been mad not to take it.”

“I would’ve been more mad to have been saddled with you as my boss,” Giles countered gruffly, but Adrian seemed to take it good-naturedly and laughed.

“So, Adrian, how long have you known Rupert?” Giles’ given name came out a little awkwardly on her tongue and she mentally shook her head at it.

“He hired me fresh out of university and put me on his team. Best mentor I have ever had,” he replied with sincerity.

“We have that in common,” Buffy responded with a smile.

“Do you have another project for me? Is that the reason for the kind words?” Giles asked, shifting the conversation back to the business at hand as he handed the packet to Adrian. The younger man took it without taking his eyes off of Buffy. He was a huge flirt and it really was starting to irritate Giles.

“No, no, nothing at this time.” Adrian answered, passing a check to Giles with disinterest. “Do you have time?” he asked Buffy. “I could show you around, give you a guided tour after hours.”

Giles rolled his eyes as he placed the check into his wallet.

“You know, that would be lovely, but I have to return to the States tomorrow on personal business and Rupert and I have dinner plans,” she answered gracefully.

“Another time perhaps.”

She smiled. “Perhaps.” Placing her hand on Giles forearm, she asked, “Are you ready?”

“Of course,” he replied before shaking hands with his former colleague. “Adrian, it was good to see you again.”

“Likewise, Rupert. Buffy, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

As they walked out of the office, Giles lightly placed his hand on the small of Buffy’s back.

—————

“Adrian seems nice,” Buffy offered conversationally as Giles pulled out the chair for her at the table in the little French restaurant Buffy had recommended in Covent Garden.

“He’s a nice enough fellow,” he answered noncommittally as he sat down.

“You know who would love an after hours tour of the museum?”

He met her gaze and answered, “Dawn.”

“Got it in one. Maybe I can ask him to show her around when she comes for Christmas.”

“I rather think that would disappoint him.”

“Why?”

Giles took a breath. “He was chatting you up.”

“Oh come on, he was just being nice,” she said, picking up her menu.

“If you say so,” he huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Does it bother you? If he did?” Buffy questioned innocently as she looked at him over her menu. If it did, then good.

He tried not to shift in his seat, but yes, it did, in fact, bother him. As much as he liked and respected Adrian, he did not want her to take him up on his invitation, and the fact that she had seemingly flirted back stuck like bile in the back of his throat.

“I have never interfered in your love life. You could do much worse than Adrian Alward.” Had done in fact, but he wasn’t going to antagonize her by bringing up the disasters that were her past lovers.

Satisfied, she moved her attention back to the menu. His avoidance had told her enough.

“Not to worry, he’s not my type.”

Giles cleared his throat. “Studious and academic?”

“No,” she answered. “The type who spends just about as much time working out as he does working _in_ the office. I’m done with the type of guy who, when he finds out what I can do, feels the need to compete against me to prove his masculinity. Besides he reminds me of Riley.” And indeed he did. Adrian Alward and Riley Finn had much in common physically.

“I see.” Giles wasn’t quite sure hers was a fair assessment of Adrian, who still rowed competitively and volunteered his time to coach his sport to underprivileged kids, but he wasn’t going to offer that kind of insight. It was enough that she wasn’t interested. Changing the subject, Giles asked, “What is good here?”

“Dear god, what isn’t good here?” Buffy answered, shaking her head in awe. “Seriously, I haven’t ever had anything bad here.”

“Come here often, do you?”

“Once or twice,” she replied coyly, setting down the menu. “Would you order us a bottle of wine? I never know what to get and usually end up asking the waiter or waitress.”

“Of course,” Giles returned, picking up the wine list.

“Are you all moved in now?”

“Hmm? Oh, as much as I can be.” He set down the wine list and looked over the menu. “Do you know what you are having?”

“Oh, right.”

—————

“So you are living up in Hampstead. Do you like it?” Buffy asked after they had finished their main courses and moved on to coffee. The meal had been fantastic and they had enjoyed a pleasant conversation. Buffy had caught him up on the goings on at the Council and he’d told her about his first couple months running his department at the V&A.

“Yes. Hampstead is lovely. I really enjoy my morning runs in the heath. I wish I could say that I am all settled, but I am sadly lacking in furniture. I have a bed and nightstand, a sofa, a coffee table, about half the bookshelves I really need, a chair, and a breakfast table set. I’ll need to go furniture shopping here shortly. Not having a desk at home has really become an issue, and as much as I hate to admit it, a television would be nice.”

“Ooo, furniture shopping! Sounds like fun,” she said and laughed when he visibly shuddered at the idea.

“I’ve been here two months now and I haven’t managed to build up the courage to brave the stores just yet.”

“Oh come on, decorating your new place should be exciting.”

“Well, it’s only my place for a year or so. I’m renting from my cousin who has taken a temporary position at his firm’s Johannesburg office. I don’t think I want to commit to any specific style or color scheme knowing I will have to move again.”

“Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem. We can hit some secondhand stores. Get something inexpensive that you can sell back later.” From the expression on Giles’ face, he clearly balked at the idea. “Snob,” she teased.

“What I will probably end up doing is bringing some of my furniture from the house, but I really enjoy being able to get back home every so often.”

“Probably your best option,” Buffy agreed. “Now that you’re living here, we’ll need to get movie nights started up again. Xander has a really nice set up at his place. He took the spare room and turned it into a theater.”

“Now _that_ sounds like fun,” he replied. “How is Xander?”

“He’s good. He seems to be settling in well.”

“How’s he coping without Anya?”

“He’s come through the darker moments, I think. Did you know his mom and dad didn’t make it out of Sunnydale?”

“Oh no! He hadn’t mentioned anything about them when we last spoke.” Which, admittedly, had been four or five months ago. “I remember that he’d gone to warn them to leave town a couple times, but found no one at home, so he’d concluded they had left in the mass exodus.”

“Yeah. Then back in March his Uncle Rory called asking Xander if he’d heard from his parents, which of course he hadn’t, so he worked with the police, filing a missing persons report. After months of investigation they’ve determined that his parents must not have made out. There’s no real way to be sure, but…”

“Seems the logical conclusion.”

“Pretty much. He’s been tight lipped about it since he found out, but he seems to be handling it.”

“Well, his parents were…” he let the thought die. It didn’t do to speak ill of the dead. “I should really phone him and set up a time to get together.”

“He’d like that.”

“I saw Willow recently before I moved. She stopped by on her way to the Coven - well, it was a little out of her way, but we had a nice lunch and caught up.”

“She told me.”

“She also told me to get my head out of my arse and stop being such a hermit,” he said with that adorable shy smile Buffy loved so much. “She had that face she pulls… the uh…”

“Resolve face.”

“That’s it, yes,” he confirmed. “It’s still rather bracing.”

“Yeah, you don't want to be on the end of that,” she agreed with a wince. “It’s been hard, Giles, on all of us, I think. We’re better together.”

“Well, now that we are all living in London, we can make a better effort. _I_ can make a better effort. Starting with movie nights at Xander’s.”

“I know I’d like that,” she agreed with a smile.

For several quiet minutes Giles fidgeted with his coffee mug as they finished up. Buffy knew that habit meant he was mulling something over in his head and hesitantly asked, “Everything okay, Giles?”

He looked up and gave her a shy, hesitant smile. “I… I want to apologize, Buffy, for everything… I’ve hurt you most of all and it’s-”

Shaking her head, she whispered, “Please don’t.”

Giles took a deep breath and placed his hands back down on the table. “I’ve treated you rather abominably. I should never have let you leave the house like that. I should have-“

“Giles, don’t,” she started, her eyes pleading with his. “Not here.”

“Buffy, please. I need to make things right between us. I was callous and cruel and my behavior less than gentlemanly.”

She shook her head. Why was he doing this? “It’s been ten months since I walked out your door and you’re saying sorry _now?”_

He looked a little hurt. “Yes. For that, for not reaching out at the memorial, for-”

“ _Reaching out?_ You never even said hello and then ran to Edinburgh as fast as you could without saying goodbye! Giles, I really don’t want to rehash all this. It hurt enough the first time.”

Leaning forward and lowering his voice, he explained, “I’m trying to make it better. I want to put things right.”

Buffy wanted to laugh. “Then let it go! Let’s move past it and be the friends we should be.”

“Please-“ he started, needing to atone.

“No,” she interrupted as her ire spilled over. “I tried making allowances for the fact that you were pretty shell shocked by everything, that you carried massive survivors guilt with regards to Karina. I tried to be a friend, to be there for you, and you shut me out. And when I _accidentally_ told you that I love you, you freaked out on me and beat a hasty retreat to your study. Then to top it _all_ off, you told me that you _were_ in love me when you were married, and when I asked if you still were, you shut down completely.”

“I'm sorry.”

“God, do you ever stop saying that? You think that makes any of this better?” she asked, trying not to raise her voice and cause a scene. “You didn’t just break my heart, Giles. You took one look at it after beating it into a bloody mess and you threw it away.” She looked out the window and swiped at the lone tear that escaped and trailed down over her cheek.

He hadn’t anticipated her reaction. They were friends… or so he thought. Forgiveness seemed automatic between them.

“I know. It was reprehensible,” he answered quietly.

She took a deep breath in and then exhaled, trying to regain her cool. “Of all the men in my life, I trusted you the most. I thought my heart would be safe with you, that if you didn’t love me that way, then you would at least be gentle and kind.”

“Buffy-“

“No!” She hissed. “If that were all, then maybe I could forgive right now. But you deliberately alienated yourself from me and the rest of our little family, the worst being at a time when we should’ve been gathering strength from each other. And then, when you finally resurfaced, it was because you needed someone to talk to, not because you deliberately came to visit, wanting to see me. But was it really advice you needed, Giles? Or were you just lonely and in need of a good shag? Did you really come to me to ask for my ‘advice’? Or was there a plan all along to catch me when my defenses were down and try to seduce me? Knowing how I feel about you, it should’ve been so easy. You know what? _Fuck you!_ _”_ She said that last bit a little louder than she had anticipated and attracted the attention of other patrons as heads turned in their direction.

He’d kept his head bowed in contrition as she told him how much his actions had hurt her, but it snapped up at the accusation of him trying to use her.

“It wasn’t at all like that and you know it!” Giles protested. He looked around and swallowed nervously at their audience before signaling for the waiter to bring the bill.

“No, I don’t know. But, you know what? I’ve been trying to get past all this. Past the hurt, past the feelings, trying so _very_ hard to return our relationship to something resembling normal because I miss you. I miss what we had in between all the badness of the last few years. The normal stuff… god, I am so very tired of feeling the way I do. Maybe it’s not worth the effort. Maybe it’s a lost cause.” She picked up the napkin from her lap and threw it down on the table.

“Don’t. Don’t say that, Buffy, please,” he pleaded, watching her stand and put her jacket on.

The waiter brought the bill and Giles pulled a credit card from his wallet. She left him there and walked out of the restaurant, looks of sympathy from their fellow diners following her as she went. He quickly signed the receipt, pocketed his wallet, and followed her, gritting his teeth at the embarrassment of airing their laundry in front of their fellow diners. Closing the door behind him, he looked to his left. She was already thirty feet ahead of him.

“Please don’t run from me, Buffy,” he called.

She stopped and turned around, her green eyes blazing beneath the lamplight. “If I were running, I’d be long gone by now.”

He caught up to her and stopped a few feet in front of her, dragging his left hand through his hair. There was a damp chill in the evening air, made colder by her anger.

“I wasn’t looking to seduce you that evening, Buffy, please believe me. I was looking for guidance from my friend, the person I trust most, the person whose opinion I value above all others. I miss what we had when you came to visit. The intimacy… not… Bugger this!” he cursed as he pulled off his glasses.

She stared at him wide eyed.

He placed his specs in his breast pocket. “I tried to tell you by the bridge. I said I could stay so we could talk not to-“

“You tried to kiss me!”

“Yes, and part of you wanted me too, Buffy, but you stopped me. I said I could stay because I wanted to explain. Please, hear me out.”

“Of course, I wanted to kiss you. I loved you. I _still_ have feelings for you, you… stupid jerk!” They stood there staring at each other before she gave up and sighed, “I have to go pack. I have an early flight.” She turned and walked towards the carpark where the driver was waiting. “Find your own way home.”

She wasn’t going to listen. She’d shut down every attempt he’d made to try and explain himself, to try and tell her. He finally gave up and called after her, “I still have feelings for you too.” When she stopped short, but didn’t turn around, he finally voiced the words he’d kept to himself for so long, “I love you, Buffy.”

Taking a deep breath, Buffy shut her eyes. She’d longed to hear those words from him. Words she so desperately wished he had said two months ago or ten months ago. Two months ago, she would’ve turned around and run into his arms, but at that moment, she was too angry, too upset with him to let his declaration affect her. The frustration she felt for so long had finally been released and would not be abated.

“I need time,” she finally said, turning around to face him. “When I get back, we’ll talk.”

When she walked away from him, he turned, shoved his hands in his pockets and headed in the opposite direction for the tube station.

“Oh good show, Giles, you _completely_ cocked that up!”

—————

He sat in a dark corner of a pub, pulling on a dark ale and nursing his even darker mood. He wanted to get pissed and forget the fight he had just had with Buffy… or rather forget that he had just been completely told off and rebuffed by her. He deserved it. He absolutely knew that, but he hadn’t thought that a heartfelt apology would be the cause of such a complete and utter tongue lashing. She’d let him know the extent of her pain and exactly how deeply he had hurt her.

There was no comfort to be had. The ale truly wasn’t strong enough. It was his first one too, and he’d been sitting in the pub for over an hour. He’d switch to scotch, but he still had to make it home and it wouldn’t do to run into one of London’s undead population without all his wits about him.

Buffy had said they would talk when she returned from the States in two weeks. Two weeks was such a long time. He finally finished the last of his beer, musing that so much time had already passed. At this rate, he’d be eighty before anything was resolved one way or another between them!

—————

The moment she’d gotten home, Buffy had changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, put her hair up in a ponytail, and scrubbed her face clean. She had considered going out hunting to take the edge off of her anger with Giles, but thought better of it since she was distracted. Admittedly, she felt better for yelling at him and airing her grievances against him, but she was still agitated and there was no ice cream in the house. She could go down to the gym, but the equipment wasn’t really Slayer proof and she didn’t want to have to pay for any damage.

She checked her luggage one last time, knowing she was probably forgetting something. More than one something, but whatever. Any item that didn’t make the transatlantic crossing, she’d just buy a replacement for later. As it was, she planned on doing some shopping when she was in California. So, bright side.

Moving the suitcase and her carryon bag into the hall, she heard a loud knocking sound.

“Mary, if you are drunk and have forgotten your key again, I swear I am going to duct tape it to your forehead the next time you go out!” she called to her neighbor as she made her way to the door.

Buffy was about make another snide comment when she opened the door, but she stood transfixed in her spot as the person calling at such a late hour was not her neighbor, but her idiot Watcher, looking contrite and damnably rumpled and sexy with his tie loose and his waistcoat hanging open. Her resolve melted away at the sight of him.

Feeling Buffy’s incredulous stare burn through him, Giles raised his hands in supplication and said, “Buffy, please, I know y-you said-“

“Shut up, Giles!” As quick as lightning, she reached out and grabbed his lapels, pulling him down for a hard kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and moved them into the foyer before kicking the door closed behind him as her tongue desperately invaded his mouth, tumbling and tussling with his. One of his hands possessively moved to the nape of her neck while the other strayed down to her buttocks, guiding her body closer to his. Her hands reached for his loosened tie and pulled the knot free before dropping it on the floor, and he quickly let go of her to shrug out of his jacket before reaching for the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it over head.

Their lips found each other again as he grazed his fingers up her sides and over her breasts, his large hands cupping them and she arched into his touch. She tore her mouth from his and kissed his adams apple before her fingers started to unfasten the buttons on his shirt one by one as she kissed her way down his chest.

“How did you get past the doorman?” she asked in between kisses.

He moaned at the feel of her lips on his skin, nearly losing himself in her touch. As she neared the end of his shirt, kneeling before him, her hands fell to the button on his trousers. Half dazed, Giles murmured, “I know ways into the building the architects who converted it aren’t aware of.”

In her aroused state, she vaguely remembered him telling her he had spent a week living in her building back when he was running around London calling himself Ripper. “Oh right,” she murmured as she took in the sight of his erection tenting his trousers. She placed a kiss on his firm belly as she moved to rid him of the next barrier.

Giles threaded his fingers through her hair, anticipating her next move, but rational thought started to weave through the fog of arousal. “Buffy…” he began as she pulled down the zipper. “Please, love, we need to… we need to talk,” he managed before his voice broke. God, she was making this difficult.

Buffy looked up at him wickedly. She had no intention of stopping. “Talk later,” she murmured as she lipped at his burgeoning cock through the fabric, the musky scent of him fueling her desire.

Before he could reply, she’d freed him from the confines of his shorts and gently pulled back the foreskin, delicately licking the bead of fluid from the slit before closing her lips around the head of his penis. Giles instinctively fisted his hand in her hair and let out a guttural groan as she sucked up and down his length, exploring the contours of his cock with her tongue. She knew damn well how to shut down all rational thought in his brain.

The muscles in his thighs trembled and his legs were in real danger of giving out. He moved his hand to her cheek and stroked it with the backs of his fingers. At his tender touch, she looked up and, seeing the pleading in his eyes, released him. She stood when he cupped her other cheek, and their lips and tongues met in desperate need.

Trailing his hands down her neck and over her breasts, Giles lightly teased her nipples before running the tips of his fingers over her rib cage to her waist, where he tugged her sweats over her hips and let them slide down her legs. She wasn’t wearing anything beneath them and he lightly squeezed her buttocks before reacquainting himself with her body.

He knew just how to touch her to drive her wild, and she ran her hands up along his chest and up to his shoulders to remove his waistcoat and draw down his braces. She took a deep breath, drinking him in, holding him by the wrists as he stood disheveled before her in his dress shirt, the button and fly of his trousers undone, his shorts pulled down and his cock, thick and full, straining and seeking her attention.

She pushed him back against the wall, her hands pinning his up near his shoulders as she stepped out of her clothes and kissed her way up his sternum and neck, nipping just below the ear.

“Fuck me, Giles,” she pleaded as she let go of his wrists and entwined their fingers together. “I need you.”

In a quick move, he switched their positions, gripping both her hands with one of his and pinning them against the wall, grabbing her thigh with the other and bringing it up over his hip. His lips crashed down on hers as they undulated against each other, rubbing his cock through her cleft and over her clitoris, slicking it with her juices. She was so wet, so turned on that he thought he might come just from the sheer pleasure of it. He trailed kisses across her jaw and down her neck before releasing her hands. Grabbing his penis, he guided it to her entrance and pushed in, letting out a soft groan of pleasure as he rested his head on her shoulder, his breathing shallow.

“Yes,” Buffy hissed as she leaned her head back against the wall at their joining and closed her eyes. It felt so right, so good, but she needed more. Trailing her hands down his back and beneath the band of his shorts, she pushed them down further and allowed them to fall to the floor before squeezing his cheeks and pressing him further into her.

He understood her unspoken command and started to thrust, the pace fast and hard. “Good god,” he grunted, his voice harsh with need against her ear. “I have missed you.”

“Harder!” she directed in reply. She didn’t want him to talk. Bringing her hand up to his jaw, she moved his head and brought his lips to hers, kissing him hard and probing his mouth with her tongue.

He complied, but broke the kiss as he fucked her harder into the wall. A picture fell, the glass shattering on the floor, but they ignored it. Buffy felt the rise of her orgasm and a keening sound escaped her throat as she grabbed his cock with her inner walls and shuddered against him.

Stopping his motions, Giles pressed up closer to her as she rode through the aftershocks, kissing her lips, down her neck, to the swell of her breasts. He was close and his breathing harsh and he needed a moment to catch his breath. Feeling her relax, he began moving within her again, slowly at first before his overwhelming need for her pushed him for completion. Buffy kissed chest and sucked at his nipples while her hands enthusiastically explored his back, hips, and sides. The sensations drove him wild. He placed his palm firmly against the wall for support and, at the last possible moment, pulled out and grabbed his cock as he came with a groan, spurting his seed over her abdomen.

“Oh dear god!” he cried, gulping in air as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, still leaning hard against the wall to keep him upright.

“You okay?” Buffy asked gently as she ran her fingers through his damp hair.

He nodded his head against her shoulder. “Mm-hmm.”

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “Let’s get cleaned up and go to bed.”

He didn’t move and held her captive against the wall. “S-sorry for the mess,” he apologized as he tried to get his breathing back under control. “Didn’t know if you… are protected.”

Her eyes widened in concern at the enormity of that statement as she realized, too, that they hadn’t used protection. Of course, the drying, itchy mess on her stomach should’ve been a give away, but the fog of desire and arousal hadn’t quite lifted until he’d mentioned it. Wanting to downplay the situation, she moved her free hand to his cheek, bringing his mouth to hers. After placing a feathery kiss against his lips, she murmured, “Thank you.” It was then that he moved, stepped out from his trousers and shorts, and followed her to the bedroom.

—————

Giles had fallen asleep almost instantly, his arm around her waist, clutching her to him almost possessively as he sprawled out on his belly, breathing deeply. Buffy should have felt content and tired, but she stared at the ceiling in anger and self-loathing, the events of an absolutely emotionally draining evening replaying themselves in her overactive brain.

She couldn’t believe she had been so impulsive. She’d been so careful to keep him at a distance, to try and mend her broken heart while repairing their fractured relationship, and once again she found herself succumbing to her desires. Worse, this time she hadn't been able to stop herself. She hadn’t even given him a chance to say hello. She’d just dragged him to her, kissed him senseless, dismissed his attempt to talk about their issues like normal adults, and begged him to fuck her.

And he had.

And it had been intense… hot… unbelievably satisfying.

And in retrospect, it had been absolutely the worst thing that could have happened between them.

Turning towards the edge of the bed, she hid her shame in her pillow. Giles, in his sleep, pulled her to him. He was quite the cuddler. A fact she had discovered when she had stayed with him earlier in the year. It had been a salve then. Now, it was cloying and she needed to get away.

The green glow from the alarm clock caught her attention and she glanced towards it. She’d have to be up in forty minutes to get herself ready to leave for the airport. Unable to find even a hint of sleep, she gently removed his arm and got up as quietly as she could, hoping she wouldn’t disturb him, and headed to the shower. God, it was going to be a long day. Maybe she would catch some sleep on the plane.

—————

Buffy sat at the kitchen table deep in thought, hands wrapped around her coffee mug, a notepad and pen sitting off to her left, its pages unmarred by ink, though there were several torn off pages that were scribbled upon and words scratched out, balled up in the bin near the counter. It had been an incredibly long morning already.

She heard Giles shuffle into the kitchen and stiffened when he put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her neck. “Good morning,” he murmured next to her ear.

Not wanting to startle him too much by her negative reaction, she reached up and put her hand over his. “Morning,” she greeted. “There’s coffee in the pot if you like. If not, there is tea in the cupboard. I bought an electric kettle, but I’ve only used it once.”

Giles was dressed in his shirt and trousers, his shirttails out, only the three bottom buttons done up, and his braces hanging at his sides. Clearly he’d found his clothes that she’d collected earlier and placed neatly over the chair in her bedroom for him. He walked over to the cupboard, pulled out a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“There’s cream in the fridge and the sugar is next to the pot.”

He turned back towards her. “When do you have to leave to catch your flight?”

Eyeing the clock on the microwave, she answered, “My flight is due to take off in ten minutes.”

“I am sorry?” Giles asked in confusion, taking the seat next to her.

She shrugged. “I was ready to go, but I waived off the taxi.”

“You should’ve woken me, I would’ve accompanied you to the airport and we could’ve had a quick breakfast before your flight.” Noting her uncomfortable posture and the notepad sitting on the table next to her, he shifted in his seat and took a sip of coffee before asking, “Were you just going to go and leave me a note?”

Looking down, she stated shamefully, “Honestly, I thought about it. Thought about leaving a key and asking you to lock up on your way out and then leave it with the doorman.” She blew out a cleansing breath and raised her eyes to meet his. “But that seemed extremely unfair since you came over here to talk last night and I… well…” She blushed and gave him a small smile before combing her right hand through her hair. “I decided to reschedule my flight. You’re right. We should talk. We shouldn’t let this go on any longer.”

Giles nodded one of those almost imperceptible nods, the one where he let her know he was listening. She was very much business and he wasn’t sure he was going to like what she had to say despite what had happened between them.

“Last night… this morning… all of it… I’m sorry,” she attempted, clearly frustrated with her lack of eloquence.

“For?”

“For… putting off this talk. Taking advantage.”

“Taking advantage?”

“I pressed the issue.”

“Well, as I recall, I didn’t put up much of a fight. Buffy, you know I love-“

“Please… just don’t say… _that_ right now.”

Giles took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. “Are you trying to say that last night shouldn’t have happened?”

“Yes.”

“I agree.”

Buffy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Okay.”

“But it did and it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Nor do I think it changes the way you feel about me.”

“No,” she agreed. “It doesn’t.”

“But,” he continued, leading her.

“But…” She gathered her courage, however, she was unable look him in the eye, afraid she’d lose her resolve. “I don’t think we should be together.”

Touching the mug for something tangible, Giles felt the bile of disappointment rise in his throat and swallowed hard. He tried to keep a calm and even tone. “Might I ask why?”

She was quiet for a few minutes trying to gather her thoughts. “Giles, I’ve spent most of this year trying to get over you, trying to maintain a civil business relationship with you, and trying very hard to remain friends. I don’t think you realize the amount of energy that has taken up or appreciate the amount of heartache I have suffered. You ignored my feelings. Outright dismissed them and treated me like some child who couldn’t possibly understand grief or love or any number of emotions in between.”

“I know. I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did. Repeatedly.”

“I can’t say I am sorry enough, Buffy, I know that. And from what you’ve said, you are either tired of hearing it or don’t want to hear it at all. And yet, to move forward, whether it is to be friends or… or more, we need to address these issues.”

She sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “That’s why I am here and not taxiing on the runway right now, heading to LA.”

The ball was clearly in his court and he needed to convince her of his sincerity. He took in a lungful of air and blew it out. “I hurt you. It was never my intention. I was trying to come to terms and deal with some complex emotions surrounding Karina’s death, the most obvious one being guilt.”

“And so you punished us both?”

“It wasn’t meant to be that way.” He took off glasses and polished them on the end of his shirt. “I didn’t take into consideration how you felt.”

“Even though I told you I loved you.”

“I… it… it wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“No it wasn’t,” Buffy agreed. “You know, back then you told me that you loved me, but I call bullshit. When you love someone or are in love with them, all you care about is their wellbeing. What you did…” Buffy shook her head and looked away.

“Those words… they made everything so real… and so very not… okay in that moment.”

“But fucking me in the dark without any emotion is okay?” she spat angrily, looking away.

“There were emotions, Buffy. And I never just _fucked_ you…” She gave him a pointed look and he relented. “Except when you asked me to. But I wouldn’t have if I didn’t love you,” he added quickly.

“You _dismissed_ my feelings. You dismissed my experiences by basically telling me how naïve I am and yet you _know_ the tragedy that is my love life. Hell, I had to kill my first love and send him to hell.” She wiped an angry tear from her cheek. “Talk about guilt…”

“And you didn’t deal well with it either,” he reminded gently. “You ran away. We truly didn’t know if you were dead or alive, Buffy. And then when Angel came back, you hid him from the rest of us, who were just as much victims of his crimes as Angelus as you were.”

“I’m not the one on trial here!”

“No, but clearly I am! You’ve decided that we are better off going our separate ways. Yet, we sit here _talking_ and I have to defend myself with little hope of swaying the outcome to my favor.” Despite his intentions, he’d raised his voice in frustration and anger.

“I was _seventeen!”_ she yelled, trying to keep herself under control. “I was _supposed_ to make mistakes and I had _never_ experienced that kind of heartbreak before. I had to run a sword through him and send him to a hell dimension _after_ he’d regained his soul for what I thought was going to be forever.”

“And despite his many transgressions against you even after his extended role as Angelus, you are _still_ able to forgive him, to defend him. The same goes for Spike… or did.” Giles looked down at his hands and took a deep breath to calm himself. “Yet here I am, my heart open, telling you that I am sorry. That I made horrible mistakes. That I _love_ you. And you won’t grant me the same consideration you give these two vampires. Why is that?”

“Because you were the one person in my life who wasn’t supposed to hurt me, Giles!”

They both stared at each other in silence before Giles swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I never meant to.” She remained silent her eyes challenging him and he looked down in defeat before adding, “We’ve both hurt each other many times over the years, Buffy.”

“Tell me about it.”

Giles stood and paced over to the counter where the coffee pot was and leaned against it, crossing his arms. He waited for Buffy to explain herself.

Not able to sit any longer, Buffy stood and joined him at the counter, settling herself beside him, but kept her gaze steady on the table before her. “Angel… no matter how human he may look, no matter how good his intentions, fights his demon everyday. But he is… selfish, he is controlling, and he makes decisions based on what is best for him and his salvation. I forgave him to let go. I _needed_ to let go. Spike - before his soul - was ruled by obsession and what was best for Spike. There wasn’t much of a difference after he got his soul, except there was a huge heaping of guilt placed on top of all that. I forgave him because, in the end, he sacrificed himself for the world.”

“He sacrificed himself for himself,” Giles replied bitterly. “In the end, he believed it would make him more worthy of your heart than Angel.”

“That’s cynical,” she said, turning to face him.

“Nevertheless, it’s true.”

Buffy shrugged. Perhaps it was so. It didn’t matter now.

Seeing her demeanor, Giles continued, “So, because they are demons, they are worthy of your forgiveness. But, I, being a mere mortal, a man, am not?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I do forgive you, Giles. I just… don’t think we should be together. I want to be friends, but… I realize now that it’s going to take some time and I think we shouldn’t… see each other for a while.”

“Why?” he asked turning towards her and searching her eyes.

“Because I can’t trust myself around you. I flirt. I come on to you. I let you kiss me… and eventually I give in and beg you to have to sex with me. And apparently, I can’t even trust myself to remember to use birth control with you. But worse than that, Giles, I can’t trust _you_.” She watched the hurt spread across his handsome face and went on to explain. “Oh, I can trust you to be there in an emergency. I can trust you to be there for any Council questions I might have. And I can absolutely trust you to be there in an apocalypse - to be my Watcher when I need you. But trusting you with my heart… I can’t. What happened before Sunnydale imploded is water under the bridge, but since…” She shook her head sadly. “And because of what happened last night - this morning - whatever… I can’t see you anymore. Not for a while. Not until I can trust myself not to…” She let the thought die, unable to continue. The prospect of not seeing him, not being with him gutted her. And she knew he knew what she meant.

Giles stared down at his bare feet, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he thought about how to respond. He wanted to fight for her, but she’d had much more time to think about the situation and distance herself from him, and had clearly made up her mind.

“Can I… would you please think about this? Take the time while you are in California to think about us? I love you, Buffy. I know you think you can’t trust me, but give me a chance to show you. I am done distancing myself from you… and from the others. Done with all the guilt over Karina.”

“Just like that?” Buffy asked incredulously.

“No, but I’ve had a lot of time to think about all of it. I did feel incredibly guilty over Karina’s death. I watched the Bringers kill her just as I watched you jump from the tower, but the guilt was worse because I didn’t feel for her the way I felt about you. I couldn’t save her… just like I couldn’t save you,” he added before his soulful eyes met hers. “But… you were right. We did care about each other and I loved her. I just wasn’t _in_ love with her and there is no sense in beating myself up about it anymore. Karina was a wonderful woman and I will always treasure the time we had together. She was probably the most understanding and accepting person I have ever met.”

He certainly was making a compelling argument and she had promised herself to openly discuss their relationship and their issues. Placing her hands in her pockets for a lack of anything better to do with them, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“What changed?” she finally asked.

After a few heavy heartbeats, Giles placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. “I was finally able to work things through put them into context. I love you, Buffy, and I want to be with you." She turned her head to look at him and caught the truth in his eyes. "And I spoke with Karina's friend Veronika not long after I moved here. We met for a drink after work. She told me Karina knew my true feelings for you, but it didn’t matter because at the time it wasn’t something that I was aware of. She also said that Karina felt that we were good together and could make a go of it, that I made her happy.”

“Duh, Giles. I told you that,” Buffy responded quietly, removing her hands to pick at a thread on the hem of her shirt.

"She provided me with the closure I needed."

“You were happy too."

“I was content,” he agreed, turning to her and folding her into his arms. “But _we_ have a chance to be truly happy together, Buffy.” She wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes, willing the tears to stay put as she drew in a labored breath. He backed away just enough to draw her chin up with his index finger, caressing her cheekbone. When she opened her eyes, he asked, “So… where does this leave us?”

“I-I still need time, Giles,” she breathed around the hitch in her throat. “I don’t know…”

Pulling her to him again, he rested his cheek against the top her head and murmured thickly, “Then take some time and tell me upon your return.”


End file.
